


Survivor

by J_Hwang



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: Dark, No character, Other, addict, survive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Hwang/pseuds/J_Hwang
Summary: I feel hot, I feel like being burned, but there is nothing, no fire at all. It’s inside me, it’s my imagination.
Kudos: 2





	Survivor

I feel hot, I feel like being burned, but there is nothing, no fire at all. It’s inside me, it’s my imagination. Get it out of me please, get this burning feeling out of me! Help me! But even if you pour water, this feeling is still there. 

I am all alone, in the darkness, no I am not torturing myself, why should I? I don’t have anybody, it’s okay I am used to it. They said I am weird, they said I am crazy, oh, I know that. I am crazy because I keep on imagining things, I know it’s my imagination, but why does it feel so real? Why does this pain feel so real? 

Help me, I am trapped inside this darkness. I want to go out. This demon keep on controlling my body and my mind, and I can’t control myself anymore. It’s hurting me, and now I am full of scar and bruises. I want to stop it but I can’t, it’s too strong. I need a way out. Somebody? 

This white little things help me a lot. But why every time I forget to take it I feel like I am controlled again? What is this white little thing? Someone, please tell me, what is this thing? Why do I keep on having an urge to take it? Why can’t I stop taking it? Why do I feel high and happy when I take it?

They said I am addicted, they said that I am helpless. Is it true? Please tell me it’s not. I am not addicted to this white thing. I am fine, I am just delusional. Right? Is there someone that can tell me that I am okay?

I can feel them inserting needles into me, pushing out those clear liquid from inside the tube into my body. What is that? It burns. I feel hot, I feel like my body is burning again. Someone help me, please. I don’t like this feeling and I don’t want to feel this again. 

They tie me up, these suits they are letting me wear have this long rope that ties my hands behind me. For what? Is it necessary? I am hurting! Can’t you see it?! I want that while little thing! Give it to me! I feel weird, I feel dizzy! 

I don’t know when and how did I blackout, but the moment I woke up I am all tied on a bed. They are inserting those needles into me again. And I once again feel the burning sensation. It’s not good, it’s torture. 

It continues for days, weeks, months, or maybe it’s been a year? I don’t know. I lost count. I am crazy after all, I can’t count. I am getting better they said, but do I? If I am then why are they still tying me up? Locking me in this room, all-white room with nothing but a bed? 

They do let me interact with some other ‘patient’ or that’s what they call us. Some ask me why and how did I end up here. I don’t know. I want to know why too. Some of them are just like me, being tied up and tortured by those needles. But some are fine and free to do what they wanted to do. I envy those that are free. I want to be free. 

They ask me, where is my family, why don’t I have someone that come and look for me? I don’t know, do I even have a family? I don’t even remember how they look like because I never actually met them. 

Some ask me, don’t I have a loved one? I cried. Why did I cry? What happen? I feel weird again. I tremble. And I told them, I do have a loved one. I had. But it’s all in the past. She left me after all. Because I am weird. And I am crazy.

Times flies, after years of them inserting and torturing me with those needles, the finally stopped. And they let me be free, they stop tying me up. And I am free to do what I want. But I feel empty. I feel new but empty. Why? 

Those women in white, they told me that I am a brave one, that I am a survivor, a fighter. But am I? They tortured me, and I just want them to stop, that is why I stop resisting, so they could stop. But why they called me a survivor? What did I suffer? What did I survive?

The first time they let me out from the building, it’s 3 years after I was brought in. That is what this doctor with red hair told me. She said that the first time I step in there, I am a mess. I am not even human. But now that I look decent, she told me that I am pretty. And I feel my face burning. 

‘You are blushing.’ She said. ‘That’s new, you show some expression.’ She continues. This doctor is not bad herself. Sporting a long red hair and round glasses, she is quite pretty too. The one that date her is so lucky. 

We become close after that day, I got moved into a normal room, no more of those suits that tied me up. I am all free. And they stop pushing needles into me, but instead they check on me every once in a while. And most of the time is this red-haired doctor. She said that I am progressing well, and in no time I will be out from this building and can restart my life. 

But why do I feel sad? Why do I feel like I want to be inside this building forever? If that means I can be with this doctor longer. ‘You don’t look happy to go out there.’ She asks. And I shake my head. ‘Why?’ She looks at me weirdly. 

“I don’t have anyone out there. And I don’t know what should I do if I leave this place.” I look down and play with her hands, pinching her palm. ‘Look at me.’ She said. And so I look up, and she smiles at me. ‘You can always come and stay with me. You are welcome and I am sure my friends will like you too.’ She said. 

And that is how I ended up staying with her, in her apartment, sharing the same bed with her, since that is the only bed she has. ‘You don’t mind the small room, right?’ She asked when I first arrive at her apartment. Of course, I don’t mind. I am grateful. 

I struggle to look for a job, no one wants to hire an ex-addict like me. But I am strong, I am not what I used to be before, I am a new me. I won’t back up just because they are calling me names, and I won’t give up looking for another job. And so, in the end, I got the job at this café nearby. I work as a barista there and I must admit, the coffee smell is my new addiction. 

After weeks of working there, I found out that her friend is the owner of that café, and she accepts me because she wants to help me out too and she knows that I am a better person now. I will forever indebted to this person because she accepts me as who I am now and not who I was before. 

_“I used to be an addict. I don’t know when and how it started, but one thing I know is because I am too broken at that time, and I met the wrong person at the wrong time. I can still feel the sensation in my body sometimes. It’s not fun, it’s pain. I can’t control my body, I feel controlled every day. And when I took those pills I feel like I am the happiest person in the whole universe._

_Getting into rehabilitation is not fun. They inject things into your body. And those things hurt you more than when you try not to take the pills. It burns, and it tortures you. They tied you up because you act like a crazy person, trying to hurt yourself. They lock you inside a while room, with nothing inside but a padded floor and walls, because you are trying to hit yourself into the wall. And the tied down your own body when you struggle to get off the suits. And again they inject liquid into your body._

_No matter how you resist it, they won’t stop. They keep on doing that and when you are calm enough, they try to talk you through, ask you questions, questions that you know you are not even sane enough to answer. But they keep on going with it. And in the end, you just have to give up and accept it. Sometimes the urge will come, but you know if you give in they will again tie you up. So you have to resist. You resist and keep on resisting and by the end of the day, the urge will be gone. And they will also stop torturing you._

_I don’t know how long I am locked inside there, but one thing I know is I am there long enough that everything outside is changed. I mean it when I say everything. The building that I used to know, the shop that I used to go, also the people that I used to know. Everything changed. And I feel like it’s the first time I ever come here when this place is where I used to grow up in._

_I am proud to say that I survive all those painful torture, and now I am starting a new life. I found a job, and I love it. My co-worker is very nice to me, despite knowing what I used to be they accepted me, and they help me through when I am having my breakdown. The customer is also very nice to me, they welcome me warmly and they ask me about my day when I feel down, and cheer me up too. I am grateful._

_But one thing, I don’t think I will be like if it’s not for this particular person. She is the one that helps me the most. She is the doctor that helps me through it, and she patiently talks to me every time, calmly and not judging. If it’s not for her, I don’t think I will ever survive this, and I don’t think I will ever come around. If not for her, I think I will forever be trapped in the misery and darkness. Being tortured and tied._

_So, thank you for helping me, thank you for pulling me out. Thank you for believing in me, and thank you for accepting me.”_

I walk back to my seat after I gave the speech. It’s a gathering for us, survivors, those that walk out from the darkness. But now only us those survive, also for those that have their up and down. We are telling our own story, sharing our past, and trying to help those that are suffering. I never realize that there is a lot like me out there. But we are surviving and we are starting new. 

“I am proud of you.” She hug me when I got home. I smiled and hug back. She is there for me, she welcomes me, she helps me through, and she never leaves me alone no matter what. And I am grateful. I don’t want to mess this up again, I can’t mess this up again, never. I won’t let her hurt, I will cherish her, no matter what. Because I love her, even though I knew, this is only my unrequited love. But for now, let’s leave it be. 


End file.
